Frozen Premonition
by accio-ambition
Summary: Friendships forged in the midst of a freeze can lead to the strangest and deepest conversations, even if they start by accident. Elsa/Emma bonding over a misunderstanding.


With the power restored and no more surprise ice barriers popping up (yet), the loft's living room was dark for a different reason now.

"I really don't see the need for me to stay in another day," Emma whined, staring in the general direction of the dormant television. Arms crossed, she sat grumpily on the couch, bare feet propped up on the coffee table. "I've recovered, I'm fine, there's more important stuff going on out there in the world."

"Your father has reason to keep you home for another day," Elsa told her, flicking the light switch on and illuminating the loft with warm touches. Emma winced at the brightness after sulking in the dark the entire morning and groaned.

"C'mon, it's not like this was the first near-death experience I had."

Elsa joined her on the couch, sympathy in the set of her shoulders. "Your skin was blue, Emma."

Silence ensued as both woman thought about the day they first met, in Elsa's self-constructed ice cavern, Emma in no way prepared for conditions the temporary prison put her in.

"I do apologize, most sincerely," Elsa finally said quietly. Her hands lay gracefully in her lap, her fingers twisting in anxiety. "I didn't mean to trap you in with me."

"I'm fine, everyone's alive and well," Emma assured her. "You were scared and I of all people can understand that being alone and being scared aren't the best things to be at once." Seeing how downtrodden the other woman was, she playfully knocked into Elsa's shoulders. "At least we got to know each other," she said in a feeble attempt to lighten the situation.

Elsa shook her head. "That doesn't excuse me." She started tangling her fingers faster and her voice got quieter. "I should've known better, especially after what I did to my sister so many years ago." Light flakes began floating from the heavens, despite the wooden slates sheltering them. "What if you had died?" Elsa panicked, breathing speeding up and unconscious of the snow. "What would have happened to your husband and your son and your parents? What would've happened to this town without its savior?"

Unprepared for a blizzard in the loft, Emma calmly placed a hand on Elsa's arm. Emma's eyes connect with the fingers around the ice queen's bicep, thankful for the stark contrast of the white of her skin and the blue of the other woman's sleeve. It wasn't too long ago Emma's fingers matched the dress.

The touch was just enough to stave an all-out nervous breakdown. "I couldn't live with that kind of grief," she whispered.

"And you don't need to because it didn't happen," Emma soothed her, her grip transforming into a soft and fluid up-and-down motion. She may have been Henry's mother for all of a year, but she'd encountered enough gripes and breakdowns to know the strokes would help. "Besides," she added, "they all would've gotten over it in time."

Elsa's already wide eyes enlarged even more so. Her hands stopped their nervous movements and ensconced Emma's, taking her by surprise. "Do you really think so little of yourself?" Emma's brows furrowed. Elsa's eyes slid shut and she shook her head in complete disbelief. "Emma, you have a loving family that nearly broke when they thought they'd lost you."

But Emma was caught on something the ice queen had said in passing mere seconds before. "Sorry, did you say husband?"

Confusion coloring her expression, she nodded. "Yes."

Tittering nervously, Emma brought her hands back into her own lap. "I'm not married."

With childlike innocence, Elsa asked, "Then who's the man with the hook?"

"Killian?" Emma shook her head vehemently and she stood from the couch. Pacing wouldn't offer a complete answer to the growing knots in the pit of her stomach, but it could keep that part of her mind a little bit distracted based on the direction this conversation was going. "He's not my husband."

The expression on Elsa's face fell. She looked to her folded hands in her lap once more. "Oh," she breathed quietly, aware of the awkwardness she'd caused her new friend. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume."

Emma waved off the sentiment and shuffled to the kitchen. If the few days she'd known Elsa had taught her anything, it was the other woman would stop at nothing to find her sister or to amend all mistakes she made, no matter how small. A mug of hot chocolate with a pinch of cinnamon and a swig of something a little stronger should help her through this.

Just as predicted, the frosty blue of Elsa's dress soon appeared from around the corner to the living room.

"It's just," she tried to explain across the island, "the light in his life rekindled when he had you safe in his arms and you were just both so relieved and so synchronous and you said you had a son…"

Slowly facing her, Emma leaned against the counter to see Elsa focusing intently on the pattern the countertop portrayed. Meekly, Elsa caught Emma's gaze. "I'm sorry if I've made things awkward."

"No, no," Emma scoffed, taking the steaming kettle off the stove. "No, you're fine. It's just..." She hesitated. Biting her bottom lip as she pondered Elsa's implications, Emma poured the water in the mug, reveling in the comfort the scent and heat offered.

"He loves you," Elsa said gently, afraid of scaring the skittish savior. "You know that, right?"

Emma's only response was a hum.

"And you know you love him, right?"

"What?" Emma squeaked, whirling around and nearly spilling her drink.

A small smile appeared on Elsa's face. "I may not know much about the subject, but I remember the way my parents looked at each other. I've seen the way Kristoff looks at Anna and the way Killian looks at you."

"And how's that exactly?"

Elsa sighed. "It's the same look of a child who sees snow for the first time, or when sailors come back to from a long and harrowing voyage. It's the look of adoration and home."

Emma opened her mouth, but found no answer that could properly satisfy the question in the subtext. So she turned around and tended to her hot cocoa, special made for tough conversations, and hoped that Elsa got the idea.

"Do you have any marshmallows?" she asked after a moment, attempting to peek over Emma's shoulder to see if any were melting in her mug. Emma nodded and pointed to the cupboard where they could be found. Successfully distracted, Elsa gracefully glided in search of those delicious little sugar puffs.

Emma bit her lips together, hiding a grin. Little did Emma want to admit that she didn't exactly mind being the object of Killian's looks of 'adoration and home,' nor did she not already know about them. But matters of the heart weren't exactly the easiest thing for her to share, especially when she knew, _just knew_, Elsa's mistaken title would one day be his.

**a/n: i know it's not shower streams, but my roommate and i had a little friendly competition with the prompt "elsa mistakes/assumes killian as emma's husband." and im oddly proud of it. so i share, because im just that kind of person.**

**ALSO ELSA AND EMMA FRIENDSHIP IS LIFE I DIDNT KNOW I NEEDED IT UNTIL IT WAS GIFTED TO ME**


End file.
